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Tuesday, May 5, 2015

Rogue's Mistress by Eguenia Riley Excerpt

From the #1 Kindle Bestselling Author in Victorian and Time Travel Romance!

Available Again at Last: Eugenia Riley’s Breathtaking Guardian/Ward Romance Set in the Steamy Old South!

ROGUE OF NEW ORLEANS

They called him “Julian the Terrible.” Handsome, well-born, and
hot-blooded, Julian Devereux gambled, drank, seduced women, and fought
duels beneath The Oaks. The one soft spot in his heart was for his
beautiful young ward, Mercy O’Shea. Julian had rescued nine-year-old
Mercy on that terrible, long-ago night when he was compelled to kill her
father. Wracked by guilt, Julian sponsored Mercy’s education and saw to
her every need—even though the spirited young miss swore to hate him
forever. But now Mercy has blossomed into a passionate, headstrong young
woman, and Julian must wonder if he can save her from himself.

ROGUE’S MISTRESS

At eighteen, Mercy O’Shea is ready to escape her relationship with
her handsome but arrogant guardian, Julian Devereux. Deliberately
slighting Julian, Mercy accepts a marriage proposal from a young man
Julian deems unsuitable. Furious when Julian rejects her suitor, Mercy
vows to defy him, and soon discovers the horrifying, fascinating
truth—that her guardian actually wants her for himself, and is even
willing to blackmail her into marriage!

Pride and passion explode between the strong-willed lovers as Mercy
becomes Julian’s unwilling bride. Convinced that Julian only desires her
physically, Mercy is determined to hide the devastating attraction she
feels toward her dark, sexy husband. Julian guards his own heart, unable
to reveal to Mercy that he wants her not just as a mistress but as a
cherished wife. Can their fragile relationship survive all the secrets
of their tortured pasts and bring love and healing to their shattered
hearts?

Rogue’s Mistress is a fiery, touching and sensual historical romance
set in glittering antebellum New Orleans. Approximately 120,000 words.
Eugenia Riley is the renowned, bestselling author of dozens of
historical, contemporary, and time-travel romances, including the
classics A Tryst in Time and Bushwhacked Bride. She has written for
publishers including Avon, Bantam, Warner, Harlequin and Dorchester.

An Excerpt From Rogue’s
Mistress by Eugenia Riley:

Call
me Julian.

“Sweet Mercy,”
Julian murmured, roving his lips over her cheek. “Do you have any
idea what you do to me?”

“Please,” she
murmured.

“Please what?”

“Please don’t.”

But he only drew
her closer still, whispering against her ear, his breath hot and
sweet. “Do you hate me so much, Mercy? Don’t you know you’ve
been driving me insane for years with that bright red hair, those
huge green eyes? And that prim little uniform—just daring me to
unwrap you and see what you’re really like inside.”

“M’sieur, this
is—”

“Honest?” he
supplied. “Ah, yes, I think it’s high time for some honesty
between us.”

Even as Mercy
trembled in confusion and uncertain desire, Julian drew back slightly
and looked down into her wide eyes. “So tell me, what are you
really like inside, Mercy? Are you as cold, aloof, and unforgiving as
your façade? Or are you as hot and passionate as a flame—as hot as
that mane of wild red hair?”

Mercy was so
horrified and fascinated by his words, she could only stare at him.
Finally she stammered, “M’sieur—”

“Damn it, girl,
call me m’sieur again and I’ll see you live to regret it,” he
growled with sudden ill-humor. “Call me Julian.”

“No.”

He grasped her
chin in a near-painful grip, forcing her willful eyes up to his.
“Call me Julian,” he repeated in a frightening voice.

“Never.”

“Hate me if you
must,” he continued ruthlessly, “but you will know who I am.”

When he kissed her
again, a sob died in her throat. Her fists clenched against his back,
then unclenched . . . He sensed her softening and gentled his
approach, snaking his tongue in and out of her mouth in a blatantly
sensual way. Mercy’s stomach hurt and her toes began to curl. She
felt bewildered and helplessly vulnerable.

Suddenly, his
hands were everywhere on her, raking down her spine, tangling in her
hair. The thumb of one hand settled on the taut nipple of one breast,
stroking audaciously, while he splayed the fingers of his other hand
firmly over her bottom, pressing her into something so tantalizing
and hard . . .

Mercy was losing
her mind. Her breasts throbbed where Julian touched her, and deep in
the pit of her stomach, a need was gnawing, growing, and seemed to
yearn traitorously for the hot instrument now pulsing against her.
Oh, what was wrong with her? How could she hurt so much yet feel so
good, and know all the while that only he could ease this sweet,
wonderful aching?

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